


Gotham Can Dance

by MagiaMyst



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bathtubs are comfortable, Borderline Personality Disorder, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian is an asshole (for now), Dancing eventually, Jason Todd has BPD, Jason Todd-centric, Mention of abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Red-Haired Jason Todd, Tim is still with the Drake family, everyone is closer in age, mention of drug overdose, this was supposed to be about dancing, this was supposed to be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27993564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagiaMyst/pseuds/MagiaMyst
Summary: A street rat known as Jason Todd is adopted into the Wayne family. He thought life was some sick game that he was losing at, until he starts getting to know his knew family. Not only that, but dancing seems to flow through the family, extending to their friend. One problem with that... Jason doesn't dance. Can the Wayne family teach him to dance and help him see that life isn't about death and abandonment?
Kudos: 22





	1. A Rat's New Home

**Author's Note:**

> I should be working on that other mer thing, but I've only gotten half the next chapter done and the music turned into this. But hey! I like keeping busy! Expect that one to have a new chapter soon. As for this... I'm so sorry... It shouldn't have been this sad. I was honestly trying to write something cute with a lot of dancing, and now it just has an angsty start. So welcome to my accidental make of a thing for awareness of Borderline Personality Disorder. 
> 
> TW: Mentions of drug abuse, overdose, and child abuse

Life was a drag. No. Really. It looked at Jason, laughed, then spit on everything he had. His father was an abusive asshole that tried to turn him into a little criminal. Didn’t work out well, seeing as the fucker was in jail now. Then his heroin addicted mother up and overdosed. While she was alive, with his father in prison, she had men going in and out of the house. Just random. Jason had to obey and be out of the way during those times, or meet the fist of whoever got to him first. It was fucking hell.

****

The streets were no better. He rummaged and stole. Living off of scraps and pity. What was worse was when he stole from the wrong person. Not because of some sort of beating, or getting sent to juvie. Oh no. It was because the man he had stolen from had turned around and fucking adopted Jason. Isn’t that kinda fucked up?

****

He was living the life he had quite happily. He had nothing and it was enough for him. But now? Now he had two brothers. One was a year older than him, being sixteen, and the other was two years younger, as thirteen. The older one was obnoxiously nice. Filled with puns and happiness. It was like the world smiled through him and it made Jason wanna throw up. Fucking Dick. The younger one was the oddest boy in the world. The first thing that had come out of that demon’s mouth was “hah! I’m younger than you and still taller.” Yeah, so what if Jason was a little stunted in height? So what if he wasn’t even five foot at fifteen. Well, after that he had given Jason some advice on how to kill a man, then just left to go to school...

****

The day of his adoption he was given the whole day to just do… whatever. He was supposed to go to a new, different, school the next day, and today would be for setting up his room. Too bad his room made him feel insignificant to the world. It was probably the same size as the apartment that he lived with his broken family in. All he had brought was nothing. No personal items, no family photos, no posters for the walls. Nothing. It left him feeling weird, in a bad way.

****

If he had the will to cry, he would have. No, that wasn’t right. It was more… If he had the feelings to cry he would have, and he really wanted that feeling. Instead he felt numb. Grey. His mouth couldn’t even open. A feeling that his adoptive somehow clearly saw, because Bruce had told him that he had set up an appointment with a therapist for him. It all happened in less than a day. How could that be? Jason was sure that his feelings were hidden enough to not be noticed by others.

****

Well, it happened, so there was nothing to do about it. Besides, Bruce had told him that he didn’t have to go if he really didn’t want to. And if he did go and didn’t like it? Well, he didn’t have to go to another. How considerate. Jason was probably some sort of charity case. It would make headlines for that billionaire fuck. “Bruce Wayne picks up boy from street to give better life.” HAH! What a laugh.

****

The entire day Jason spent in his room, just staring at the window. He could have gone off to investigate where he was living, but that didn’t pique his interest. The butler, Alfred, had stopped by a few times during the day to ask if he wanted something or other, or if he wanted to have a tour of the house, but he had said no to it all. And before he knew it the other two children of the house were getting home from school. Mmm, fun.

****

He could hear voices in the hall outside his bedroom. They sounded cheerful. One was that Dick kid, with the others being people he had no idea of. There was conversation outside his door for a moment, but he ignored it until he heard “is he in there?” He could feel heat building up in his ears, and his body itching to run.

****

“Probably, but don’t bother him. Alfred doesn’t want him getting overwhelmed.” That was Dick.

****

Soon the chatter went away from his door, going further down the hall. Eventually he couldn’t hear it at all, and it made him feel much better. Probably some kids from the school he’ll be going to. It would only make sense.

****

A moment later there was more chatter. It came from the same direction that the Dick group had come from, but this time it sounded younger. Probably Damian and some friends. The voices were higher in pitch, and one of them just kept prattling on about stuff. Fuck did he want some music to drown everything out with.

****

Just like the first group, this group went down the hall, fading out eventually. Jason found himself picking at the thread of his ripped, dirty jeans. The rip on his knee getting steadily worse the more he worried at it. Soon he was falling to his side, landing on the bed. It was like a giving up on life moment.

****

The bed was way too comfortable for anything. It felt like he was going to be eaten by it. This was not where he was going to sleep. His eyes flicked around the room, actually taking it in for once. There was a door at the opposite side of the room, and he could only assume it was for a closet. That would be much more comfortable. Safer as well. But safe from what? Jason was safe here after all. Had to be.

****

Hours started to go by with Jason just laying uncomfortably on the bed, staring at what he was hoping to be a closet. The sun was starting to go down, casting his room in orange and pink hues. He had heard the two groups leave during his hours of losing time, not really registering any of the words that were being said.

****

Someone knocked on the door, him not claiming it as his yet, before it opened. He didn’t bother looking over to see who it was, not really feeling like he could sit up. His insides felt weird and empty, mostly in the chest area, which gave him that feeling of not being able to get up.

****

“Jason,” Bruce, “ I wanted to ask if you’d join us for dinner. Alfred informed me that you’ve yet to eat.”   
  
“I’m not hungry,” was his quiet response. So quiet that he was sure Bruce would have never heard it.

****

The man walked over to the bed, closing the door on his way over, and sat on the other side of the overgrown pillow. Jason didn’t move. Stayed where he was. Then a hand was placed on his shoulder. He could feel his lower lip quiver, his eyes wetting.

****

“Want to try to eat? I can bring some food in while Alfred makes sure Dick and Damian eat.”

****

Why did Bruce care? It really sounded like the man cared. Not like the whatever it was that his mom did. Not like how the people in his life gave off fake feelings of love and care and all that fucking bullshit. It sounded real.

****

“I’m good,” was what Jason said, his voice wavering a little. What he wanted to say was “yes,” and “I don’t feel good,” and “please don’t leave.” How fucking stupid was that? Hah. So stupid. Being picked up off the street didn’t mean he was actually going to be loved for once. It just meant he had a home until these new people in his life got tired of him being there. Tired like his father going to prison just to escape him. Tired like his mom overdosing just so she didn’t have to deal with him. Tired like his dog running away from him.

****

The hand on his shoulder tightened a little, being something like reassurance. It just made his jaw tighten, the hole in his chest starting to feel with something unpleasant. He tried to rub it away, his knuckles dragging across his shirt.   
  
“If you need anything you only have to ask.” Bruce’s thumb rubbed on his shoulder before his hand was gone.

****

Wait! NO! Come back!

****

He felt the weight on the bed lift, then heard Bruce walk out of the room. The soft click of the door closing was the last bit for Jason. He finally started crying. Everything from the past month felt like it just slapped him in the face. His knees came up to his chest while his hands covered his mouth so he wouldn’t be loud and inconvenience the people of the manor.

****

It was after dark when he finally calmed down, his body feeling like it was going to give up on consciousness from the moment of emotional weakness. His tired eyes floated back to the door across the room, wanting to sleep. It took longer than he would admit for him to stand and walk over to the door.

****

It had opened with ease and silence, revealing not just a closet, but a large walk in closet that held another door. That wasn’t going to be safe with two doors to worry about. That door was soon opened, and it was then he found out that he had a bathroom connected to his room. Well… handy.

****

The only thing in the bathroom that had his attention was the bathtub. Jason closed the door to the closet, then to the bathroom, and climbed into the tub. It was big enough to fit him, but when wasn’t anything big enough? Not even five foot… In the tub is when his body finally gave up on him and consciousness faded. Much more comfortable and safe than the oversized pillow.


	2. The Rat Gets Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason wakes up to the sound of worry, then takes a shower. After which a letter is found addressed to him.

The next day Jason woke to a worried voice. Well, voices. It had first been Alfred, going in to wake Jason in his bed. Problem was he wasn't there. He was gonna finish waking up, say that he was right in the bathroom, but it was quiet for a while after that and he had dozed back to sleep. In what felt like hours, but was really three minutes, Jason had woken again.

The worried voice of Bruce could be heard, asking Alfred if he thought Jason had run off. He said something about getting his jacket to look for him outside. Before the man could leave Jason spoke up from the bathroom.

"I'm in the bathroom."

There was silence for a moment, then a long exhale of breath.

"Are you alright in there?" Bruce sounded so worried, and it just stabbed at Jason. He had made this man worry. Fuck. He wasn't supposed to make people worry. That's how he gets in trouble.

After pulling himself out of the tub he stepped out of the bathroom, then out of the closet. He had a look of guilt, thinking he'd be in trouble.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, not being able to bring himself to look at either of the men. He didn't want to see the annoyance or the disappointment on their faces.

A familiar hand rested on his shoulder, making him look up at Bruce. Jason's brows were knitted together in a sign of guilt and shame. Bruce, on the other hand, looked so worried. Bruce Wayne, a billionaire with two children that already looked perfect, a man with so much money that he could just buy people's happiness, was staring at Jason as if he were a child that had just gotten lost in a store.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I should be sorry. I should not have thought you'd run away. That was just me being stupid, and probably over-protective dad mode kicking in." A small laugh left Bruce after he spoke. He sounded so sincere that it made Jason want to throw up.

"Right you are, Master Bruce," Alfred added in. "I simply told him that you were not in bed, and this was the result." The older man sounded like an exasperated father, who was trying to excuse his unruly child.

Just what was this family? Jason was conflicted with his feelings. He did not quite have words for them all. What did have a word for was that it all gave him so much discomfort. He wanted to lean into the touch, to hug the fucking bastard that dared to show him non-toxic affection. He wanted to pull away so the man couldn't abandon him the moment he grew attached to whatever this was. He wanted to cry again, maybe even scream out his frustration of everything. He wanted to punch people, and he had no idea why he wanted to do that. Was it for the false hope that he could feel these people trying to give him?

Jason did none of that. He stood still, staring into Bruce's too-deep-for-words blue eyes. He stared until the discomfort got to him and he could only look down at the ground.

"Sorry," was what he eventually mumbled out again, not knowing what else to say.

He could see Bruce making to say something from the corner of his eye. Instead Alfred stepped over, talking before Bruce could.

"Master Jason, there is absolutely nothing you need to apologize for. Now, before you apologize once more for that I request that you refrain from such a thing. Everything is quite alright. Well, everything except for you not being at all ready for your first day of school. So we shall leave you to get prepared. Attire is in the closet, you know where the bathroom is, a cell phone is in the right-hand end table of your bed, if Master Bruce was too busy fussing over you to let you know of that when you arrived. After you are ready for school please find your way to the dining room. If you need help finding it I shall be back in precisely half an hour. Heaven knows that Master Richard takes more than that to shower."

Alfred sounded so polite, yet demanding. It was like refusing any of that would lead Jason into disappointment. A feeling in him said he really did not want to make Alfred disappointed. More than he didn't want Bruce disappointed. Even if he wanted to speak up and say that he didn’t need to be called master, or anything really.

Both men left, with Bruce looking back a brief second. Yet again the soft click of the door closing was him knowing that he was alone. It was a sound that allowed his body to move. Everything inside him was in conflict. In the closet he picked out clothes that seemed like him. Dark jeans, the darkest shirt he could find, and a dark crimson hoodie. There was more color than he felt he deserved in that closet.

The shower he took was pretty short. Not even ten minutes. Maybe even less than five. He simply cleaned himself, hair and skin. The shampoo smelled minty, and made his scalp feel frozen, but not. The body wash had a smell that he couldn't even place. It smelled like how a man should smell. That was something he felt good about.

The towel that dried him off was much too plush for life. It was like the rest of the house; soft, welcoming, making his heart feel and hurt.

Jason had no idea how to deal with any of it. Bruce and Alfred were so nice. Damian seemed like an asshole. Dick was… still yet to properly be introduced. That would be something he’d have to work on. That whole crying himself to sleep and shit had him feeling better. Jason was once more feeling more like himself, rather than letting the depression eat him up.

Maybe it was the shower? He always felt a lot better after getting clean. Looking in the mirror had him seeing things he didn’t wish to. Pale skin covered in a random assortment of scars, slightly visible ribs, orange hair that looked a lot less brownish black now that the grime was out of it, and a baby face that had the lightest dusting of freckles. His skin was clean, so now everything was more visible. Fucking freckles.

That glance of the mirror had his mood souring a touch, so instead of staring at it any longer he went to put on his clothes. Being small for his age meant that clothes didn’t quite fit him right. His jeans had to be rolled up a little, and the sleeves of his shirt and hoodie were over his hands.

The dirty clothes and basically clean towel were deposited into the hamper by the door. Then it was out of the room and glancing around for socks. It took Jason about half a minute to find the socks and put on a pair. After which he looked at all the shoes that he had the option of. They were far too nice for him. It was truly hard to pick. He could just go to his ruined shoes, but those had holes, and he was supposed to be going to a good school, right? Damnit.

A pair of high-top black vans with a red streak were picked. They were comfortable, and oddly something he had always wanted but figured he’d never get. They’d be great for running in case he pissed someone off that he knew he couldn’t beat. First to break them in.

There was an odd lightness to Jason as he gave a small hop in his shoes. His heart didn’t feel so empty. A few more short hops, a little rock back and forth, and he was heading out of the room. Well he was until something hit him. He had a cell phone! A quick turn around had him going to the right side of the bed, opening the drawer of the night table to see a cell phone and a note. Odd… So he sat on the edge of the bed to read it.

“Dear Jason,

I know this is not how you expected life to go. I know that you would much rather your birth family being together and better off than everything they had been. Life likes to be cruel and uncaring to some, while kind to others. For that I have decided to ignore what life wants, and help you decide what you want out of life. I want you to have something better than harm and broken promises. Please know that in this manor you can find family as well. It may not be by blood, but that does not make it any less real. If it takes time to see that then I hope the time will be worth it for you. You are not alone in this world, and if Richard had his way he would make sure you are never alone. Damian on the other hand may seem like he does not care, but I promise given time he will see you as his own. Please allow us to love you like family.

Your hopeful adoptive father,

Bruce”

Fuck. This man really wanted Jason to be family. More than his actual family wanted him to be! No! No no no! He was okay. He was definitely okay. Nothing was wrong with his heart clenching tightly. His eyes were definitely not watering. Definitely fine.

It took a minute to regain his composure. He had been so close to crying a few times, but each time he looked up while blinking rapidly. He scrunched his face tightly, baring his teeth to force a different feeling. One that wasn’t the gross one in his chest. Anger was what he was looking for. If he could be angry then he wouldn’t cry. That feeling just refused to come though. What ended up happening instead was a quick and sudden shutdown of feelings after that minute of struggling to not cry. So he was fine. Definitely fine.

**_Knock. Knock._ **


End file.
